


Gambling Away The Past

by jacksgreysays (jacksgreyson)



Category: Dreaming of Sunshine - Silver Queen, Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 17:51:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11385306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacksgreyson/pseuds/jacksgreysays
Summary: Shikako falls.The first thing she sees when she comes to are several Iwa nin attacking some kids. So of course she’s going to do something about it.At least two thirds of Team Minato are glad for the assist--too bad that doesn't include the teenaged version of her jounin sensei.Shikako falls and knocks an entire timeline off track.(recursive fanfiction of Silver Queen's Dreaming of Sunshine. originally posted on tumblr)





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Dreaming of Sunshine](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/53648) by Silver Queen. 



Shikako falls.

Or flies. Or stumbles. Or she is pushed and pulled and squeezed and stretched all at the same time for an eternity that only lasts a second.

The point is, Shikako is dragged somewhere–somewhen–and the first thing she sees when she comes to are several Iwa nin attacking some kids. So of course she’s going to do something about it.

When she comes back up for clarity after the flurry of battle she almost chokes on air, “S-sensei?”

“State your name and registration number,” a Kakashi Hatake shorter than her says, voice flat and both of his dark eyes staring her down.

“Hey, don’t be like that, bastard! She totally helped us out!” an unmasked and unscarred Obito Uchiha shouts.

By his side, a living, breathing Rin Nohara adds, “She’s wearing a Konoha flak jacket, Kakashi-kun. And that’s the Nara clan symbol.”

A part of Shikako appreciates the support–even if they aren’t from the one person in this situation that she knows and trusts–but the large majority of her is freaking the fuck out.

Shikako falls and knocks an entire timeline off track.


	2. Part Two

The Yellow Flash really is as amazing in person as all the storybooks say he is. It’s also bewildering to Shikako that anyone who has ever seen him wouldn’t automatically blurt out “you look just like your father” when meeting Naruto; but that is a thought for later.

At least three years later, because, apparently, she has somehow ended up in the middle of the Third Shinobi World War.

The good news is, she has been accepted as an ally and a possibly misplaced Konoha ninja. Which is, technically, true. Just in the temporal sense, not geographical.

The bad news is, Team Minato has to report back to a field base–they did end up completing their mission, after all–and Shikako will be expected to explain herself. Which… she kind of can’t. All of her clearance codes are over a decade out of date–in the wrong direction at that–and she’s still not quite over the fact that she may have probably destroyed her timeline by interfering.

It’s weird, seeing a young Obito Uchiha and not feeling that wave of revulsion and hatred she did when she saw Kabuto. There is no visceral desire to kill him even though, in this case, she could probably do it. There is just a strange lack of anything; it might be shock.

She saved his life–saved his future at the cost of her past–and now he is a blank slate.

Well, not as much of a blank slate as she is right now.

“A Nara, eh?” says Minato-san (and she struggles not to make that a sama instead, because this is the legendary Yellow Flash, future Yondaime Hokage).

Shikako just nods, reaching across her chest to clutch at her clan’s symbol on her upper arm. She doesn’t have her brother or her father’s typical Nara looks–having enough of her mother to offset those genes–but she is a Nara. She is proud of her heritage: after all, she is the clan head’s daughter and the sister of the future clan head.

Or… she will be? Verb tenses are difficult when dealing with time travel.

“That’s convenient,” Minato-san continues with a mild smile that could be honestly pleased or could just as easily be hiding a complete lack of trust in her identity, “Ikoma-san is in charge of the base. I’m sure he will be relieved to see a lost clan member.”

—

Here are three things she knows about Ikoma Nara:

1) He is her father’s younger brother.

2) She was given his earrings when she became a genin.

3) He died during the Third Shinobi World War.

None of this actually helps her presently… past-ly… right now.

Again, Shikako is struck with a distinct lack of emotion. It’s helpful, in a way, since it prevents her from doing anything strange, but it’s also a little uncomfortable. Shouldn’t she feel something–anything–when meeting her uncle for the first time? She wore his earrings for a year, surely she can summon something like affection.

Instead she stares blankly ahead and can only be relieved that she passed those earrings on to Sasuke.

Ikoma-san (does she call him ji-san? That’d be weird, he’s only a few years older than her. And also, she doesn’t exist yet) looks at her ears, too, “Chuunin?” he asks, instead of getting her name.

“Special Jounin,” she corrects, then nearly bites her tongue. A surplus chuunin Nara wouldn’t be too out of place, but a special jounin? They’re not exactly a clan full of over-achievers.

“Ah,” he says mildly, and she cannot even. How is she supposed to react to all these mild-mannered expressions?

Just to get it over with, she says “My name is Shikako.” She can’t exactly tell the truth–frankly, she’s still not sure what the truth is–but she’s not going to lie.

“A Nara with a Shika name,” Ikoma-san muses, and she knows what he’s getting at, even if Team Minato–waiting impatiently behind her–doesn’t. Only certain members of the Nara clan are allowed to have names with Shika in it, and as far as he knows? She isn’t one of them.


	3. Part Three

Ikoma has only recently been made clan heir, a second son obediently falling in line, but already he is being called Shikakeru–to challenge, to start, to set traps. It is a good Shika name, a name worthy of a future Nara clan head, but it doesn’t quite fit right.

It fits Ikoma’s brother better, even though he already has a Shika name given to him since birth. His brother, Shikaku, the one who should have be clan heir, had he not been disowned for breaking his betrothal. Over some non-clan kunoichi, and a mere chuunin at that.

It’s not that Ikoma agrees–frankly, he doesn’t see why the elders bring up her rank so often, considering most Nara only ever reach chuunin themselves–but he does think that Shikaku could have handled the situation better. Should have, because then this way Ikoma wouldn’t be stuck stepping into a role he’s unprepared for.

It’s not that he’s unsuited–Ikoma is smart, he wouldn’t be a jounin at eighteen if he were an idiot. He can observe a person and know their story without a word, he can analyze dozens of reports and form a strategy to success. He’s smart, okay, so he knows what he’s looking at.

A girl capable of the Nara shadow jutsu, with the same looks as the woman his brother left the clan for, and a Shika name. He knows what he’s looking at and it shouldn’t make any sense but, then again, Ikoma shouldn’t be clan heir either.

Ikoma has a decision to make, an important one. And it doesn’t matter whether or not he is clan heir–doesn’t matter what implied fate is waiting for him–even if he is using the clan heir’s authority. He made an oath: to protect his team, the clan, their allies, and the village. In that order of priority.

In a way, it doesn’t even matter that Konoha is at war, he would protect his clan. He would protect Shikako, even though Ikoma knows what her existence means for his future.

Shikako wouldn’t be named that if she had cousins.

—

Minato is confident that Ikoma knows what he’s doing in assigning Shikako as a fifth member of his team. It makes sense, after all. Minato is often called away to other skirmishes and battles which his team isn’t ready for, and given the near miss that almost occurred… well, Minato isn’t ungrateful.

But he’s also pretty sure that the two of them are lying. Not about Shikako being a Nara–that’s readily evident and, anyway, it wouldn’t make sense for Ikoma to cover for her if she weren’t part of his clan. But there is something off.

It’s not her name or her allegiance–regardless of if he is lying, Minato trusts Ikoma as a fellow Konoha nin. It’d be irresponsible for Shikako to claim a higher rank or overrate her skills–it’s dangerous, to a shinobi and their team–but it’s also clear that those aren’t the lie either.

Minato doesn’t doubt her capability–she saved his team when he couldn’t–especially not after their quick assessment spar. Though it is something about her skills which are questionable.

He recalls the way she aided them in the destruction of the bridge. He notes the lack of sheaths or extra storage spaces beyond the pockets of her flak jacket and compares that to his team’s reports of her fighting–sword and kunai and scrolls.

Surely, as one of Konoha’s three fuinjutsu masters, he’d have at least heard about a girl on her way to becoming the fourth.


	4. Part Four

Being on Team Kakashi–this strange past version of it–is not so different from being on the Team Kakashi Shikako grew up with. Team Sevens are almost always structured the same way, heavy hitters with big personalities and the same formula of rivalries and friendship somehow interlocking into a functional unit.

And yet, oddly, it’s the similarities that make Shikako so keenly aware that this team is not her team. Or rather, the way the similarities make the differences stand out all the more. This Kakashi, young and angry and not eroded away by time and loss–or at least, not as much loss as her Kakashi–is like looking at the sketch of a familiar picture. The lines forming a recognizable shape, but still rough and colorless and liable to change.

Obito, like Naruto, burns in her chakra sense; bright and all-encompassing. But where Naruto was the sun, Obito is a volcano. Smaller yes, but somehow more dangerous. A natural disaster waiting to happen rather than the constant, reliable warmth of sunshine. Apt, considering what his future could have been, had Shikako not interfered.

What’s most fascinating–and unexpected–is Rin. Unsurprisingly, Shikako does not know much about Rin Nohara, not from either life. It’s shameful to think about in these terms, but the truth is: Rin had only existed as a part of Kakashi’s story, and not even a significant part–so tangential to main plot and tucked away in the corners of Kakashi’s mind with all of the other traumatic losses he suffered.

But meeting Rin in person is so interesting. Shikako’s only met a few people with naturally dual chakra natures–Tenzo and Mei Terumi among them–and it’s always interesting to her senses, but that’s not what is most interesting about her. Strangely, Rin reminds her not of Sakura or Shikako herself–but of Sasuke. Honed like a blade, her chosen role as a healer held above all other desires, and so damned loyal to her teammates.

Shikako is honored to be part of this Team Kakashi, even if it is not the Team Kakashi she grew up with. She is certain she will grow to love them as much as she does her own.

And anyway, Shikako has already changed the timeline, there is no harm in changing it further. If she can alter one life, surely she can save another and prevent the heartbreak of the third.

—

It is during Team Kakashi’s eighth mission that Shikako tries and fails to summon Heijomaru and nearly gets stabbed through chest for it. Been there, done that, she’d rather not have an encore.

Luckily, Obito takes the time out of his own fight to send a fireball to distract her enemy and she takes the opening to recover herself.

At the end of it, with Rin patching up their injuries with a stern face, Kakashi turns to her and asks, “What happened?”

Not out of concern, but the way one shinobi asks another for a report. Shikako is still not used to this Kakashi, the one who will have to learn about teammates and friendships the slower, easier way. If she were younger and softer she might have flinched at his tone, but she has not been that girl for a long time–that girl may very well never come to be.

“I tried a technique,” Shikako says simply, flatly, because two can play at this game, “It didn’t work.”

“You tried to summon something,” Kakashi corrects, because of course a fellow summoner would recognize the action.

“Yes,” she agrees, because there is no reason not to, “And it didn’t work,” she repeats pointedly, dismissive.

Kakashi ignores the cue to drop the matter and instead says, “We can’t have that kind of liability out in the field.”

Shikako, fed up with this harsh Kakashi and the stress of war and the knowledge that all she has ever known has been taken from her again, is less than pleased, “I won’t try to use it again!” she snaps, and doesn’t feel the slightest bit guilty at the way Obito’s eyes widen with surprise, or the way Rin stills completely.

But it’s what little of Kakashi’s expression she can read that makes her pause–the narrowing in his eyes that she recognizes from her own sensei–a point made and an argument won. Shikako realizes then that the lack of summoning might not be the only liability he was talking about. Her irritation recedes.

“We’ll head back to base camp for now,” Kakashi decides, “Ikoma-san will want to know what we’ve found,” he says, and that’s like Shikako’s Kakashi, too. A kindness hidden behind monotone and apathy–Shikako is a stranger amongst them, still, she may find comfort in her family.

It is well meant; it’s not his fault he doesn’t know that Ikoma is more of a stranger to her than Kakashi.

—

They report immediately to Ikoma–Team Seven luck remaining strong even backwards through the years as they explain how their scouting mission turned into a battle because of a stray combination Iwa-Kumo team–before Rin excuses herself to join the medical tent and the boys likewise leave to offer their services to the camp.

Leaving Shikako with the uncle that died before she was born.

They are Nara, far used to more subtle manipulations, and so their efforts are deemed obvious but charming for it. Between them they share an amused smile, a raised brow, and the smallest laugh–a fleeting moment of levity during war.

Ikoma waits for her to speak first, so much like Shikako’s father that she doesn’t feel the awkwardness she expected.

“I tried to summon Heijomaru,” she says, before hesitating, unsure if her uncle knows the deer summons by name.

But he is clan heir, now, and Ikoma laughs, “Sembei-obaasan let you sign the scroll?” Before he, too, hesitates, “Unless it wasn’t Sembei-obaasan… is she still alive when…” unready or perhaps unwilling to verbally acknowledge that Shikako is from the future–a future–though she knows he knows.

They stand in silence.

“I’m pretty sure she’s older than Konoha itself,” Shikako tries, which brings the smile back to both of their faces.

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Ikoma nods, considering, “She’s not a field shinobi anymore, but given the tactical advantages of our clan’s summons she may have been deployed to one of the other base camps. I can send a request in, see if she can be sent here. If not, then have your team sent to wherever she is,” he says, in the recognizable tones of a Nara planning.

“Oh, that’s…” generous, kind, unnecessary, she doesn’t say.

“You’re family,” Ikoma says, argument against all three, efficient with his words in a way so familiar to her.

Because they are family, even if they are strangers to each other; he’d never send out troops hampered, he’s not going to do so to family.

And Shikako knows that it’s war and she can’t promise to save him, but she’s going to try.


	5. Part Five

Shikako wakes up.

Not with a start–it wasn’t her sense of danger that prodded her from unconsciousness–no need to wake up Rin’s sleeping form, gentle breathing beside her.

It reminds her of her childhood, in a skewed and almost desperate way, curling up next to her brother for warmth and comfort. In war, comfort is a scarcity, she will not take it from Rin if she doesn’t have to.

Shikako keeps her movements slow, doesn’t stiffen up either, opens up her chakra sense to investigate what woke her. Rin’s dual nature calm and soothing, Obito’s volcano banked for now. Kakashi, then. Which makes sense, considering it is his watch right now.

She eases away from her bedroll, lined up parallel to Rin’s so close as to nearly be touching, and silently makes her way over to where the newly summoned Pakkun sits.

In her chakra sense, summons are multidimensional (pun only slightly intended). Each creature has their own chakra, their own signature, but summons have an additional layer of their summoner’s chakra:

Pakkun is familiar to her–both then and now–rich and thick and surprisingly dense for a dog his size, like the best kind of hot cocoa. With the added zing of Kakashi’s electric-ozone signature, she can easily picture a stormy day, lightning incoming, enjoying it from the safety of her own home.

The pug gives her an ear flick–acknowledgement and not so subtle request for scritches–and, once she’s seated, jumps into her lap.

“He’s restless,” Pakkun says in a voice that isn’t at all higher than the one she remembers, “Went to check out the perimeter.”

Shikako doesn’t bother to ask if he took some of the other summons with him, Kakashi isn’t stupid, but it still seems… risky. Overly confident, maybe.

The Kakashi she knows has decades and a Sharingan on this one, and she still worried about him.

There’s no campfire–not much of a camp, really, just an arrangement of their bedrolls to reduce wind chill and detection, and traps all around–but the moon is nearly full, and it’s just enough to cast a weak shadow.

Pakkun critiques her shadow puppets while they wait for Kakashi to return.

—

Dawn rises, cold morning light turning the sky a gentle lilac for a few, breathtaking moments. She is tired, but she doesn’t regret sitting up despite Kakashi’s terse words then or the brutal pace he sets now.

After all, they’re heading to the Sangaku Outpost for her benefit: Sembei-obaasan is stationed there, deer summons a vital part of Konoha’s intel dispersion.

Which is just a fancy way of saying glorified messenger hawks, but no Nara would dismiss the importance information in battle.

“Are you excited?” Rin asks cheerfully, as they jump from branch to branch, both of them ignoring the way Obito complains at Kakashi for the demanding speed. They’re all still on alert despite heading inland and nearer to Konoha–home doesn’t always mean safety, she learned (will learn that) long ago–but hours of travel is still boring regardless of if it’s in a vehicle or by her own two feet.

“About the summoning contract?” Shikako clarifies, perhaps a bit unnecessarily, considering the whole point of this mission is to meet with Sembei-obaasan. Ostensibly Team Kakashi is delivering some of the more critical intelligence reports to the Sangaku Outpost, but they all know the real reason.

“Yes,” Rin confirms, “I think it must be nice to have summons,” she muses, “The Nohara clan isn’t exactly big, and we’re mostly medic nin–well, obviously–so there aren’t many of us in the front line, so there isn’t much need for summons, I suppose…

“There might be someone who has a contract with cranes,” she continues after a considering pause, “but I don’t think I’ve met them.”

Shikako nods, wondering herself about such a summoning contract. As far as she can remember, no one in her time uses crane summons. While she isn’t close with anyone from the Nohara clan, they and the Nara are both entrenched the Medic Corps. Surely such a useful summon would have been mentioned at least once.

“I am excited,” she says, finally answering Rin’s original question, “And a little nervous,” she admits, “as far as I know, Sembei-obaasan is the only summoner for the deer contract and I don’t know whether or not she’ll let me sign it.”

Just because she did in the future (past?) before, doesn’t mean she will again.


	6. Part Six

They get to Sangaku Outpost with minimal disruptions–the pair of Sand shinobi they almost literally stumble over notwithstanding (for this, Shikako hangs back, unsure exactly whether the Sand-Konoha alliance is on or off or even existent at this point)–just in time for a dinner of watery okayu.

The four of them are shuffled into the line by an Akimichi with scars and wrinkles and a kind smile on her face. “It’s not much,” she says, “but it’s delicious and it’s warm–”

“–and it’s not ration bars,” finishes her Yamanaka partner. It’s better than that (though not being ration bars is a huge pro) given that there’s an array of toppings: scallions and umeboshi and dried, shredded pork. In wartime, that’s practically a feast.

He glances between the clan crest on Shikako’s uniform and Kakashi’s distinct hair color, considering, before ushering the team to the table where his Akimichi has already settled.

It brings a different kind of warmth to Shikako, knowing that even decades out of place, some things do not change.

Kakashi is taciturn as always, but Obito’s natural affability more than makes up for it along with Rin’s polite inquiries of the infirmary situation. Shikako hardly has to talk, though she comments about Ikoma-san when prompted and circles around to Sembei-obaasan after a bit.

Like her deer summons, Sembei-obaasan has adopted a more crepuscular schedule, and given her advanced age (the specific which still remains a mystery), Shikako won’t be able to meet with her until tomorrow morning.

With dinner savored as much as can be, and their welcome committee off to fulfill their roles in the outpost, the four are left to their own devices. As team leader, Kakashi goes to report with the jounin in charge, while Rin–ever dutiful–checks in with the medics and offers her services.

Which leaves Shikako alone with Obito in a peaceful place for what might very well be the first time ever.

They grin at each other, perhaps a tad awkwardly (definitely on her part, anyway) fully realizing that they have been fighting side by side for weeks without having had a conversation that didn’t somehow include the war, their teammates, or a shared appreciation for explosions.

Well, at least they have that.

It’s not as if she’s been avoiding him–not as if such a thing is really possible on a team of four–but she hasn’t exactly gone out of her way to befriend him. With Rin, it’s easy–minimal prior knowledge means there’s nothing to bias Shikako one way or another. With Kakashi, it’s easy in an entirely different way: then and now, he’s always been steady yet standoffish; she can’t push him too far, but she can trust him to be there.

With Obito? She knows entirely too much about what he might have been, and nothing at all about who he currently is.


	7. Part Seven

She’s never been one to sit back and let things happen. Not when acting meant hope and the alternate meant nothing but regret and despair. She may fail, but she may also succeed, and isn’t that chance worth it?

Oddly enough, for this situation, the best choice of action might be to actually not.

Or, rather, she’s already acted and now she just needs to monitor the consequences.

Obito’s grin falters for a moment, turns into an expression of confusion not unlike Naruto’s until she explains something and it clicks.

And perhaps that’s the strategy she should take here: supporting doesn’t mean interfering, and it’s a far step better than just passively watching.

He’s as much a blank slate as she is, he just doesn’t know it.

“Sorry,” she says, for the silence gone taught and long, frantically trying to think of something else to say, “… what’s something you’ve always wanted to do but couldn’t?”

Obito’s smile returns, bright and blinding.

—

Kakashi and Rin, following the sounds of laughter and cheering, find their teammates holding an impromptu play.

Shikako’s voice threads through the noise, “And then the princess turned into…”

“… a bear!” Obito chimes in, “Who wandered the lands, searching for…”

“… the famous magician of the forest.” it switches back to Shikako, and as they approach the see what’s happening. Obito creating a steady flame in his hand, casting a large shadow against the side of a huge tent which Shikako manipulates from her seat. At the moment, the silhouette of a bear lumbers between trees, approaching a tower.

“The magician was rumored to perform any magic in exchange for…”

“… meat!” One of the audience members yells out, the rest begin to laugh. Shikako obligingly makes the shape of a cow which comically keels over.

“How fun!” Rin cheers, winding her way to sit beside Shikako, the chuunin already there scooting over to make room.

Kakashi, unsurprisingly, hangs back, turning to the spectator next to him and asking, “They’re not being a nuisance, are they?” He is team leader, responsible for any trouble the rest might make.

“Hardly,” the man says, “There’s not much to do here when you’re off-duty. This is the most entertaining thing that’s happened in weeks.” He turns to look at him about to continue before a familiar something shutters in his eyes and he goes silent once more.

Kakashi considers leaving–there aren’t any more free bunks inside the outpost, but the jounin in charge offered a tent big enough for four, and it is late–but then he hears,

“Kakashi!”  
“Kakashi-kun!”  
“Bakashi!”

His team waves him over, even Obito, which makes the flames flicker wildly.

Some of the audience look tense, recognizing him, but for the most part they remain congenial, parting so he can get to his team.

Well, he is responsible for them.


	8. Part Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompted by to-someplace-else as part of the [Ask Box Author's Cut](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11547186/chapters/25929552) event

Shikako reluctantly but dutifully wakes up with the sun.

It is excruciating.

Because they are in an outpost and relatively safe, she allows herself to whine noisily into her makeshift pillow.

Obito kicks out a leg, and because the tent they’ve been assigned is so small, it actually connects…

… with Rin’s thigh. She delivers a swift slap in retribution, before going back to sleep.

Kakashi, because he’s clearly inhuman, is already awake and looking down at his team unimpressed.

And fond, but largely unimpressed.

Shikako huffs another whine, before grudgingly going vertical, hating the morning and whichever cruel god invented it.

“You have to meet your clan member,” Kakashi prompts, when it looks like Shikako might just fall asleep sitting up.

“I’m going, I’m going,” she grumbles, splashing some water on her face to wake herself up, before leaving the tent.

An outpost during wartime, especially one so centralized and bustling as this one, is like having a piece of the village out in the field. It’s not home–not even the Konoha of this time would really be home–but it’s definitely a balm after months at war.

Sembei-obaa-san and the deer summons are being used mostly as messengers rather than warriors–rather beneath their abilities, but unsurprising without a combat capable summoner. They’d be housed permanently within the outpost, dorm building instead of a tent outside, closer to the commander where information is more vital.

People around the camp take note of her and wave her along with a nod or a smile–no doubt recognizing the Nara symbol of her uniform–but she doesn’t really need the guidance: Heijomaru’s antlers, tall and decorated, are easily visible from this distance.

She’s a little nervous, eager and worried: if she doesn’t sign the contract, then their trip here was for nothing. If she doesn’t sign the contract then Sembei-obaa-san and Heijomaru have found her unworthy.

The deer contract doesn’t mean home, but it’s another piece of it that’s close enough.

///

A trial run, Heijomaru had said, after Sembei-obaa-san read the letter of introduction from Ikoma.

She doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

When she had first met Heijomaru, he had been somewhat reluctant even then–even though Sembei-obaa-san had been much older and hadn’t been able to summon him in years.

She’s even more of a cocky upstart now, apparently, which matches the summon she’s been assigned: Wakakusa, the only pyromaniac deer of the herd.

He’ll fit right in with Team Kakashi.


	9. Part Nine, Team Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of the ask box fake fic title event. Prompted by to-someplace-else

Wakakusa is a young buck, only in his second antler growth, but he’s strangely tall and stocky–not as much as Heijomaru, of course, but a good combat summon nonetheless.

Where he got his penchant for fire, she has no idea.

“Oh gods,” she moans into her hands, sitting on the side of the training field with the rest of her team… the rest of the humans of her team, anyway.

On the field proper are Wakakusa and Kakashi’s pack of dogs–closer to pups than the grizzled ninken she remembers, paws adorably oversized, but far more experienced on the field than Shikako’s probationary partner.

Rin obligingly douses the flames with an almost lazy and exasperated D-rank water jutsu before Kakashi waves the summons apart to reset the exercise.

“It’s capture the flag, not set the field on fire,” Shikako yells out futilely; Wakakusa tosses his head in response. She’s not yet sure if that’s irritation or embarrassment or, simply, acknowledgement.

“Like you’re one to talk,” Obito nudges her.

True.

This clearly isn’t working–maybe she shouldn’t have expected it to work–Kakashi’s method of training his dogs wouldn’t necessarily work for Wakakusa just because they’re all summons. She’s his summoner, she should be more involved.

She heaves herself onto her feet, plants one hand on her fist with more confidence than she feels, and calls out a challenge, “Dogs versus deer! Obito and Rin will be the judges.”

At their names, the both of them perk up in excitement.

“That’s eight versus one,” Kakashi says slowly, not yet understanding. As far as he’s concerned, Wakakusa can’t even handle his ninken one at a time, much less all eight of them teaming up.

“No,” she corrects, “It’s nine versus two…” She walks over to stand next to Wakakusa who swishes his tail casually in a simple one-two. This, she knows, is a much more positive reaction.

“… unless you think you’re going to need help?” she continues, goading.

Kakashi’s eyes narrow. Around him, his summons drop their doggy grins and focus.

Challenge accepted.


	10. Part Ten, Things You Said

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part of the [Ask Box Things You Said](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14533413) event
> 
> 12) things you said when you thought I was asleep, prompted by to-someplace-else

Today is their last in the relative safety of Sangaku Outpost and, by unspoken agreement, all of Team Kakashi have decided to spend the day on separate ventures. Soon enough it’ll be back to being just their squad–best to get their fill of other company while they can.

Not that other company necessarily equates to better company, of course, especially given the way some of those stationed at the outpost still look at Kakashi with barbed, pointed glares, but there are a few people Shikako, at least, wouldn’t mind meeting with again in the future and she knows her teammates feel the same. At the very least, Kakashi certainly doesn’t mind the opportunity to summon his ninken in a more peaceful situation than he’d get to once they’re back on duty.

And so the team spends their last day at the outpost apart, helping out where they can or getting in some last minute training, before returning to their tent for the evening. They’ll leave at dawn, back to the camp that Ikoma-san runs and which Minato-san generally considers home base, before being sent out on their next mission.

And so Shikako isn’t surprised about being the first one back to the tent, late afternoon, nor does she feel at all bad about flopping onto her bedroll and immediately passing out. Exhausted after one last grueling training session for her and Wakakusa beneath Heijomaru’s steely hooves, Sembei-obaasan making less than helpful comments from the side.

A few hours later, she surfaces from the depths of unconsciousness at the proximity of other chakra signatures, but decides not to fully wake up when she recognizes her teammates. Still, their conversation filters down to her in her dozing state, words hushed but no less heated.

“–can’t believe you still think that! After everything she’s done?” Obito’s voice, the magma of his volcano bubbling ominously.

“Sensei thinks so, too,” Kakashi’s voice, a weak defense, barely any crackle in the ozone, “He said to watch her.”

“Because he thinks she’s some kind of secret fuinjutsu prodigy, not because she’s a spy!” retorts Obito.

Rin, as always, tries to break the tension, “Ikoma-san wouldn’t put her on our team if she were, and Minato-sensei approved it. He wouldn’t do that to us,” she reasons.

There is a moment of silence, Kakashi acknowledging and accepting her point, before he says, “Her story is inconsistent–what little of it she does tell us, anyway. How’d she end up near where our mission was? What happened to her previous team?”

The silence that follows this time is much longer.

Not because the answer is hard to think of, but because one particular answer comes to mind too quickly. Shikako can almost pinpoint the moment when each of her teammates stumble upon it: Obito’s volcano going dormant once more, temper doused immediately. Rin’s breath hitching, dual fire and water flickering and rippling in distress. Kakashi’s electricity flattening out the way it does when he knows he’s said something awful, but can’t apologize for it.

They are at war. There is one simple explanation for how a shinobi could end up all alone in enemy territory without any back up.

It’s morbid to think of as such, but how lucky for her that they’ve all come to the obvious, but wrong conclusion.


End file.
